


Undead Nightmare: The Untold Story of a Cursed Vampire Slayer

by QueenLyssa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Modification, Character Bashing, Cursed, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Religion, Twisted religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:52:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenLyssa/pseuds/QueenLyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keera is a young adult, raised by her widowed mother in a small mountain village. She has tried to be normal, to be accepted, but her nightmares were always keeping her separate, different, alone. Between her terrified and superstitious mother and concerned local priest, how was she ever to be considered normal. What will happen when the nightmares that plagued her, that defined how other's treated her, come to life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Revelations 16:5-6  
You are just in those judgements, you who are and who were, the Holy One, because you have so judged. For they have shed the blood of the saints and prophets, and you have given them blood to drink as they deserve.

 

"Run Elihue!" The young man grabbed his master's arm trying to pull the old man off the rock that he had collapsed onto. He did not move. "Elihue, please, it'snot safe. Just a little further to the mountains, we will find shelter there."

"I will not run from God's enemy. The Witch and her dogs will have to kill me to silence me." Elihue crossed his legs and folded his arms over his chest then closed his faded honey brown eyes as he relaxed. "Go Yaba, one of us will live today, and it will be you."

"Master," Yaba wailed. "She is still a long ways off, we can fly away from here and she will never find us."

Opening his eyes Elihue looked at the man who knelt at his feet. The young man had been with him for many years, caring for him and learning all that Elihue had to teach, no longer a small boy but not yet a man. He held back a sigh of despair at the fear in his servant's innocent eyes. "Yaba, what example would I be if I ran in fear? If God wills me to die, will there be no consequence for my murderer? I am the last of my brother Prophets, there are no others." Taking a deep breath he looked up at the sky through the branches of the palm tree that shaded them from the harsh desert sun. "If I were to take flight, my faith in God has already failed me. Would I not be saying that all my life's work for Him meant nothing to me? That I fear a mere mortal more than He Who Created All?"

"But..."

"Silence boy! I will hear no more discouragement! Flee and leave me with my God!" Elihue's eyes burned with a holy fire as he pushed the other away from him.

In tears Yaba spun around, running away from his master, not daring to look back and risk seeing the cloud of dust that warned how close Queen Raharianel was to fulfilling her destiny. Elihue watched his faithful servant and constant companion run into the barren desert, ignoring his body as it began to tremble. Once again closing his eyes, Elihue stilled his spirit listening to the desert around him. The hot desert air was cooled around him by a slight breeze, the chilled sweat trickling down his back made him shiver, the rough feel of his burlap robe chaffing against his skin. The palm's leaves brushing together over head, whispering comfort to him. Cicada's hidden in the tuffs of grass sang his Lord's abundant Grace to him. In the distance a hawk cried out in the air. Smiling at the life that existed here in the middle of such a bareness Elihue raised his face to the heaven's, though keeping his eyes closed, silently submitting to his Master's will.

"Dear God, Glorious Master of Heaven and Earth, please do not abandon me. If I am to die today, let it be a curse upon Raharianel and all who decend from her wicked body. She has hunted down and killed all your prophets and priest, all save one." He paused to take in a shaky breath, lost in his own mind and spirit, the now silent world forgotten. "The people fear her more than you, O God. Have mercy on your people. Forgive me my weakness but I fear that when I am gone the people will fall farther from you and your ways. Set up a standard for them that they may remember you despite their sins."

"Really Elihue, is that all you fear?" A cold voice whispered in his ear.

Looking with certainty Elihue's eyes opened and met the cold glare of Raharianel, as her army quietly surrounded them.

 

"Don't you fear me?" Raharianel cooed. She was a beautiful woman, as tall as many of her soldiers, she wore silks that hugged every curve of her body, accenting her height and grace. Fierce, rare blue eyes bore into him as he looked into her face, high brows curved over those eyes as if permanently raised, daring him to defy her. Raven black hair was pulled up and away in coils and braids on top of her head, string of pearls intertwined, forming a crown around her brow, the creaming white beads standing out against her olive toned skin. Full lips painted red and pulled apart showing smiling white teeth. "Don't you fear loosing your precious life?" She mocked, pulling an ornate dagger from her belt.

"Normally I just kill 'gods' prophets when I find them, but you are the last. I believe an exception should be made. Not to mention a spectacle for my men. They are tired from having to chase you. I deem they are in need of some refreshments and entertainment!" With a flick of her arm she slashed a deep gash across Elihue's chest, cutting his tunic and flesh. A harsh laugh escaped her beautiful lips as she walked back to her horse and released a wine skin that hung from the stallion's saddle. Releasing it she held it out to her men. "Drink, for now we celebrate. Every priest is dead and soon even their 'god's voice will be silenced as well. We have vanquished them! The kingdom is ours!"

Her hand now free from the wine skin, her men dismounted and surrounding them, she returned her attention to Elihue, who clutched at the gash on his chest. He opened his mouth to say something; but with a laugh and her carefree spirit returned, Raharianel silenced him by plunging the dagger in her hand into his round belly. Giggling as she watched him bite his lip to suppress a cry of pain or surprise, his eyes rolling back to look at the sky.

"Honestly Elihue, not even a whimper?" She pouted, "Just give me even a tear, I know you want to let go of that calm emotional reserve that you have always possessed. Come now, aren't you tired of holding it all back? That's right! Let the despair overwhelm you, your 'god' has abandoned you. You're alone here with me, only I can save you if I so wish." Pulling the knife out, she pierced him again, smiling in contentment as he army grunted and hurrahed their praise.

"Mother, will you honor me and let me be the one to put an end to this old man's foolishness?" A young man stepped out from the throng, no older than 20 summers. He was slim, and sickly pale compared to his mother and her brutish men. Long black hair pulled back into a single leather thong rested down the middle of his back. Though he was of age, not a whisker graced his face, giving him a boyish look that questioned his manhood being surrounded by this army of sweaty, hairy heathens. Wearing garments of fine silk, even in the blistering desert heat his brow remained dry, or maybe it was that his soul was as ice cold as his colorless eyes.

"Ah my son, true you are to ask for such an honor, for after me you will rule our people and your part in destroying the old ways must begin. You have my blessing to make this blasphemous old fool your first kill." Pulling out her dagger from Elihue's soft belly once more, Raharianel stepped away from her crumpled prey, gesturing for her son to finish the task she had begun.

"A curse upon you boy!" Elihue guttered as he struggled for breath, blood filling his mouth as he spat it out trying to speak. "And also a warning."

"Hmmm, well I will hear your threats old fool, though they be empty." Sneering down at the prophet the youth drew his sword. Unlike the other's, his sword was light, slim and sleek, so similar to it's bearer, both speaking of unmeasured grace and unsuspected malice.

"Drink my blood as is your barbaric way when you kill your first, be it man or beast, but remember this," groaning Elihue drew a pained breath, his eyes loosing focus as they drifted from the crowd before him to the mountains and sky beyond them. His voice was weakening as his life blood seeped out of his wounds, "The moment my blood touches your lips you will be cursed. You will find all betray you!" Gasping now for breath, Elihue could not suppress the body wrenching cough that lingered in his punctured lungs. When he had regained his breath he looked once more upon the arrogant youth. "You shall put your fate and faith in the hands of a girl, your bride, that she may avenge you and your loved ones, but even she will have no love for you; you cursed most among all men. Your thirst for blood will not stop with me. You will consume the blood of your loved ones in search of utter oblivion!" He gave a cold laugh before he spat at Nehumel.

"Silence you DOG!" In sudden furry at those words of his foretold fate, the young prince swung his blade. Forgetting years of training, the swing lacked any kingly grace. In an upward sweep the sharp steel cut through the brittle bones surrounding Elihue's lungs and heart, then lodged itself in the collar bone. Not waiting for Elihue's mind to comprehend death and release his soul, the young man reached into the prophet's open chest and grabbed his still fluttering heart.  
With the old man's weary eyes on him the youth cupped the beating muscle to his mouth, biting into it and sucking as much hot salty blood as he could from the dripping muscle before swallowing a chunk and discarding the piece of flesh. Then raising his blood drenched hands to the sky he turned to face his mother's army. HIS army!

"Behold Raharianel, my Queen! Behold my people, my brother's in arms! I am now a man! I am Nehumel, slayer of all who oppose my Queen and my people. _ **I AM!"**_


	2. Chapter One Nightmares Awaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has a lot in it and it moves a little fast

Chapter One

Nightmare's Awaken

 

 

Psalm 55:1-5

Listen to my prayer, O God, do not ignore my plea; Hear me and answer me. My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught at the voice of my enemy, at the stares of the wicked; For they bring down suffering on me and revile me in their anger.

  My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death assail me. Fear and trembling have beset me; Horror has overwhelmed me.

 

 

Keera jolted out of her deep sleep screaming. Eyes wide open, she could see nothing in the blackness of her bedroom. Lifting shaking hands to her face she brushed numb fingers on her lips, horror filling her as she felt a sticky substance on them. Hearing the telltale signs of her mother rushing to her, Keera quickly grabbed a pillow, using the case to wipe off whatever was on her face for later inspection. 

     She finished scrubbing her face and flipped the pillow, hiding the unknown substance as her mother rushed into the room throwing open the door and switching on the overhead light. Keera quickly lifted her hands to offer a shield of protection to her eyes from the sudden assault. 

     "A little warning next time, Mom!" Keera tried to laugh, teasing her mother in hopes of lifting her own spirit despite the depression that was already settling over her. Lowering her hands she looked at the older woman. Nichole Kevada had been attractive once, beautiful even, but all that was distorted and hidden by the lines on her face. Her constant frown and pinched lips, pale skin tight over high cheek bones desperately skinny once again from yet another fast. Long black hair that used to shimmer blue in the sun was made dull and brittle by malnutrition and all her graying strands, on occasion appearing silver only seemed to further diminish the bristle mane. The only bit of her that spoke of her once beauty were her light green eyes. Though care worn, they still sparkled with the laughter that once filled her. Keera tried not to pull back from her mother's callused long skeletal hands as they reached out to pat and stroke the girl's hair. 

     "I could say the same thing!" Worry was easy to read on Nichole's face as she sat next to her daughter on the bed. Keera could tell that her mother was trying to force the kindness into her eyes, voice and touch; the kindness that used to come so easily, as she swept a lock of hair behind Keera's shoulder. Nichole's eyes locked onto her daughter's neck, her whole body froze as panic finally filled her and breaking contact with her daughter forced her eyes to sweep around the room, searching every dark corner before resting her eyes on the open window. 

     Keera, suddenly self conscious, reached up and let her fingers brush her neck, trying to find what had frightened her mother. Her stomach plummeted as cold fingers found what she could only think was the same sticky substance from her mouth on her neck. Pulling her hand away she looked at what was on her fingers, rubbing them together she smeared the warm slick blood on them.

     "KEERA!"

     Shocked she looked up at her mother, whose own hands now gripped Keera's face, forcing their eyes to lock. "Keera, where did the blood come from?"

     Thought were incoherent, was she still dreaming? Where HAD the blood come from? In a daze, her mouth spoke before her brain could catch up. "Nehumel."

     "This isn't funny, Keera!" Anger now joined the fear on Nichole's face, hands now fiercely grabbed her daughter's arm. "Where did the blood come from?"

     The pain in her arm cleared her mind a little, pulling farther out of the foggy state of mind that her dream always left behind. With her free hand Keera reached up, pressing a palm to her pounding forehead, careful not to touch bloody fingers to hair. "I don't know Mom, I really don't. All I know is that I had the nightmare again, except..." she murmured. "the desert had never been that hot, the smell of the horses and the men's sweat, hot blood steaming on the baked earth." 

     "Enough!" Holding her hands up Nichole rose from the bed, she rushed to the open window, poking her head out to see outside. Satisfied that nothing was there she closed it and turned back to her daughter. "That is it, we are going into town, you are going to speak to Father John and you are going to perform penance. You will spend the rest of the day in prayer. Also we are fasting today! Get dressed!" All concern and care drained from the older woman's voice as she turned out of the room, muttering prayers under her breath, fingers nervously rubbing the rosary that was forever around her neck. 

     Keera couldn't help but stare in silent horror after her mother's retreating form. She couldn't remember when she had first had the nightmare, always the same one, but she did remember all those nights kneeling in the church, praying to God for salvation. Father John and her mother told her that these dreams were a reminder for her, that she was bound for hell if she did not repent and call upon God's mercy and forgiveness. Some might think that would be too harsh for a small child to be told, but how could they be wrong when the darkest part of the dream, something she had never told anyone, was that she was always one with Nehumel. She was an observer up until he stepped forth from the crowd, then she would join her essence with his, becoming one with him. How could she not be damned to Hell when her very soul cried for joy when they were one? 

 

 

Keera pulled her knees to her chest as she rested the heels of her feet on the edge of the cement pillar Nichole had left her on. With her back to the Cathedral, Nichole inside speaking privately with Father John, Keera looked out at the people of her small rural village as they in turn ignored her entirely. After an entire night and day of prayer and fasting her knees and head ached so much, the pain in her heart, a usual presence as the people treated her like an invisible pest.

     Mrs. Cole, the Butcher's fat wife managed a condemning sneer as she waddled past the girl while never acknowledging her presence. Keera watched her with animated humor, the woman's thick legs sliding, seeming only able to separate from the knee down, her skirt far to form fitting for comfort or appealing appearance. It reminded the girl of an old wind up toy she had loved as a small child, never really bending its knees to walk properly, simply swinging its limbs back and forth hoping for some forward movement.

     A little bit of her sorrow slid away as a ray of sunshine broke through the spring rain clouds. A smile only glinting in her eyes, Keera continued her people watching moving onto old man Winslow. His shoulder's hunched as if burdened by a great load, long slim hands gnarled around the handle of his walking cane. Slipper-ed feet shuffling along the sidewalk. For a moment he looked as if he was about to loose his constant battle with arthritis and gravity, to collapse to the hard concrete ground. Thankfully he caught himself. Keera knew from personal experience that had she jumped down from her perch to offer him aid or support he would have hit her with his cane. Yet if he had fallen and received no offer of assistance he would have yelled and cursed her.

     As he passed her Keera dropped her eyes, and wrapped her arms around raised knees letting out a deep sight of relief. Going back to her mindless observations she happened to glance up and see Mrs. Tittle walking into the Grocer's across the street. Her twin four year old girls, one on either side of their mother leaning behind her to make faces at each other. It soon turned into a slapping fit that Mrs. Tittle, pink with anger and embarrassment, had to quickly break up before entering the store.

     "Hey!"

     Quickly caught off guard, Keera almost fell back into the bushes that grew behind her. In all her people watching she had not seen the group of girls headed toward her. Biting down her fear she lowered her hands to her sides, clamping down on either side of the pillar lest the new girls think it funny to really push her back off her 'high seat'.

     "Hey Freak! What are you doing in town? It's to early for me to have to look at you!" Sneering the girl in front came to a halt before Keera, crossing her arms over her ample chest as the three other girls, all of varying ranges of beauty surrounded their leader and her intended prey in a semi-circle. Keera wasn't worried yet, her back to the Cathedral, she was confident she could escape if need be.

     "Ruth, it's been a long night, my mother brought me into town, I had no choice."

     Ruth simply stared at her in shock, quickly glancing over at the church before responding. "Spent the night in the church again? Aw you poor thing, don't worry just think of all that time kneeling praying, it's preparing you for your future." Laughing she flipped a perfect blond curl over her shoulder.

     Biting her tongue to keep from responding she raised a shaky hand to the long braid that was pulled over her shoulder. Ruth's hair was the perfect length, not to long, curling just above her shoulders. Keera's reached past her waist, thick black hair with only a slight wave to it, giving it something if any shape beside straight when left down. She hated her hair, but of course yet another rule from her mother of things not permitted was short or even shorter hair. Before a typical self loathing party could begin everyone's attention was drawn to the youngest of Ruth's group, silly Bethany Richards.

     "Um Ruth, I don't get it, what does praying have to do with Keera's future? I heard Father John saying that she could never enter a convent due to being the black sheep of the congregation." Long lashes batted around large brown eyes, her short hair's tight curl's brushing the nape of her neck and some even sliding into her doe like gaze. 

     "Really Bethany, one would think you didn't have a brain under that gorgeous hair of your." Ruth smiled, not kindly but rather in a way to let the other girl know she was an idiotic child. "I was referring to the fact that the only future our pretty messed up Keera has is as a service girl, always on her knees." The other two girl's blushed yet joined in with Ruth's cruel laugh, while Bethany still looked a little confused. 

     "That is enough Ruth Kingsley!"

     All the girl's jumped at the voice that barked at them. This time Keera did slip off of the pillar, though thankfully her feet hit the sidewalk on her left and didn't give under her. Taking a firmer stand Keera turned to face the new addition to the party. A boy, a little older than all of them and a foot taller than them all, at 6 feet tall almost, he practically dwarfed Keera's 5'4" stature. His dirty blonde hair was cut short but framed his square face, bright blue eyes glared down at the group of girls as he came to stand between them and Keera. Broad shoulders and his thick set body blocked her view, Keera found herself glaring at the middle of his back, face almost even with the dip between his shoulder blades. 

     "Deakon," Ruth breathed his name as she came up to try to pull him away from Keera's presence. "I didn't see you, Mother has been telling me that you should come over sometime soon. We have that project to do at school, why don't you come over today. Have dinner with us?" Placing a hand on his arm she tried to ring her own through to push her body against his. "Mother will make that dish you enjoyed so much last time." With a coy smile she glanced behind him at Keera, dropping the act to glare at her for the briefest of moments before turning her attention back to Deakon.

     He had caught the glare, shaking her off he spun around, slinging an arm over Keera's tense shoulders, His back to the others he began to pull Keera away from them and consequently the Cathedral. He completely ignored the girl's calling out after him as he continued to leave the stumbling Keera beside him. 

     "Deakon!" Ruth yelled at him, not lost on the implied insult. "Deakon where are you going with that freak?"

     He paused, pulling Keera along with him as he turned around to glare at the troupe, "I am going to spend the day with my friend here and repair the damage you and your stupid mouth's inflicted."

     "Deakon, Mother said I had to wait for her out here!" Keera tried to pull away from her childhood friend, well ok her only friend, but he wasn't making it easy for her as he simply tightened his grip around her shoulders.

     "I've got a picnic basket in the jeep, a big heap of food my mother made and your birthday present. Your coming with me." Once again ignoring Ruth, Deakon spun them back around and lead them down the street to a parked jeep. He released his grip on her only to allow her to climb into the seat that was almost as far from the ground as she was tall. Once he was sure that she was seated, buckled and wasn't going to attempt escape, he finally dropped his serious attitude and smiled at her. Walking around to the front of the jeep he then climbed in and turned on the engine. Before turning into non-existent traffic Deakon turned to her and smiled his biggest brightest yet.

     Rolling her eyes Keera turned away, looking back down the path toward the Cathedral where Ruth and her followers still stood watching them and by the looks of it hissing at each other, as they were leaving. Keera could barely keep her own smile from showing. Once more Deakon, her childhood playmate, had chosen her over the town beauty. "How did you know where I was Dee?"

     The older boy suppressed a laugh as he pulled away from the curb and headed down the main street leaving the small down behind. "It wasn't that hard Keera. I went to your house yesterday, you weren't there so I figured I would try the church today." 

     "How long did you hide at my house before going home?" Reaching up she brushed hair out of her face just as quickly as the wind from the open roof and windows whipped it loose from her grasp. Lips finally splitting into a broad grin at the image of him hiding behind her couch or under her bed. With his bulky size it would never work. 

     "Oh only till sunset, no need to make my Ma worry." Meeting her gaze he shared the rare moment of her smile by returning it. "Happy belated Birthday Keera!" 


	3. Chapter Two: Ignorance Lost part I

##  2 Corinthians 4:17-18

 

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

 

 

 

Keera sat in the exact middle of their mountain meadow, legs crossed, fingers plucking and tearing blades of grass and small flowers withing reaching distance. She knew that Nichole would be frantic with worry, for a moment her busy hands paused as she pondered what sort of punishment her mother would inflict, but it didn't matter. Today was her day! 

 

     "You had to fast on your birthday?" Deakon looked at her sadly as he took a bite from the slice of cake in his hand. 

 

     She couldn't help but glare at the boy lying on the cool ground beside her. "Yes Deakon, my mother made me fast and pray on my Birthday. She thinks that there is something terribly wrong with me, and it was my 18th birthday. You know if there is a curse or a destiny on you that it will come to be on your eighteenth year!"

 

     He stared at her skeptically. "I think your mother has been teaching you too much religion and superstition. I mean seriously! For your sixteenth birthday she all but tied you to the bed to perform an act of exorcism! Remember that shit she kept going on about having to take all precautions to keep you from becoming a vampire bride? Come on! Who's mother tells them that they are cursed to become an imaginary monster of the night's future bride, simply because she was born under a cursed star!" He paused in his rant, still looking up at her like she should be agreeing with him. 

 

     Smiling she looked at him carefully. His brown eyes were hooded by thick brown eyebrows, which were currently arched in an attempt to look serious. His short blonde hair was spiked today, a sure sign of rebellion against his own strict parents who preferred that he combed it down like a good catholic boy. Though she would never admit it to anyone, least of all him, she liked watching him. He was extremely good looking. Tan skin, white smile, tall and muscular, he was a classic dream boat with a dash of hometown innocent country boy. She loved that about him. 

  

     He reached over to punch her leg forcing her out of a daze. "Hey, I'm all for you drooling over my hot 'bod'. Just let me know when, I'll pose to my best advantages." His smirk broadened as she shoved him over, and watched her intently as she rose wiping the dirt and grass off of her.

 

     "We should probably be headed home." She looked at her watch, it wasn't too late, a little after four, but the sun would start setting soon. The mountains that they both lived in blocked the last rays of sunlight bringing twilight to the people living on them earlier than in town. Not waiting for his response she began picking up their lunch and put the remnants back in the basket he had thoughtfully brought.

  

     "Are you sure? After yesterday and now your running away fro the day, your mom will probably be placing you under house arrest, or following through on that threat to send you to a convent." Deakon joked as he got up off the ground. 

 

     "Yeah, but better house arrest than getting lost up here in the dark."

 

     "What, are you scared of the dark now Keera?"

 

     She stood still for a moment not able to meet his gaze. He was teasing and she knew it, but visions of her nightmare flashed into her consciousness making her shiver in terror. Taking in her response he came to stand beside her, pulling her into his secure embrace. All sense of teasing left him. 

 

     "Come Keera, I'll drive you home."

 

     "No I'm fine Dee, I plan on running home. I'll probably get back before you even reach your jeep!" Pulling out of the hug she playfully punch his arm. Laughing suddenly she took a few steps away from him. "I'll call you when my mother finishes her rant to let you know the punishment and it's parameters!" Once again not waiting for his response she turned and sprinted away. He was trying to get to close again. She knew he was in love with her ,he had admitted it in the past, had even proposed to her when they were little. He was her best friend, the one she could turn to when their world crushed down on her to hard, but nothing more. No matter how much she cared for him, she could not love him. He was dear to her and she could not imagine her life without him in it, there was no unconditional love though. Her heart did not beat any faster when he was near, he did not constantly stray into her thoughts or dreams of the future. He wanted to love her but she could only hurt him.

 

     Hurtling brooks, jumping from rocks and swinging from trees that she did not dodge, Keera tried to rub away the tears that blinded her. The hurt in his eyes, his crumpled face, these images haunted her, pushed back the anger that would no rise to block the greater force of sorrow and the tears that blinded her. Why couldn't they just stay friends? Why couldn't he accept that she would never love him the way that he wanted her to?

 

     The sun was gone by the time she reached the valley in which her home lay, the sky pitch black, the stars shimmering like diamonds in the heavens lighting her path along with the bright full moon, illuminating everything an eerie blue. Slowing her run to a job and then a slow walk, hands rested on her hips, Keera's breathing still heavy, she spun round enjoying the peaceful calm of the night. As she turned to face the mountain her eyes were drawn to her current path. She had just come out of the wheat field that surrounded her home, their lively hood. She groaned at the trail of bent stalks that bowed to the earth, a long path cut through the waist height grain all the way to the other side of the valley. She had thought that she had run down one of the narrow tracks that ran along the shoots to make tending easier but she had miscalculated. With a deep sigh Keera slouched, turning back again toward the house, her depression returning. Nichole would have a lot to say about the damaged field, more wood for Keera's funeral pire.

 

     Reaching the walled garden that surrounded her home, she kept her head bowed, eyes on the path before her as fingers cradled the cold metal handle of the gate. Normally she would have jumped the waist high wall but all energy seemed to have been sapped from her body. In the shadow of the cottage Keera's steps became more labored. The building itself was large and usually inviting, but tonight she found herself longing for a cold mountain ledge over what awaited her inside the stone walls of her childhood home. After taking a deep breath and wiping the last remnants of long gone tears from her face with a free hand, Keera pushed open the gate and walked down the neat stone path to her front door. Hand now raised to open the large wooden slab, she was surprised to find it locked. Confused she finally looked at the building shocked to see it was dark. She had expected her mother to be frantically pacing the living room, worried about her only child's safety and whereabouts, every light in the house burning brightly, a beacon to her lost little one. She couldn't still be in town, could she?

 

     Shaking her head she bent down and grabbed the key that rested under the welcome mat. "I still don't understand why we have locks at all! There is no one for miles and she leaves windows open all the time!" Keera spoke to the door as much as to herself, trying to fill the silence. The click of the lock resonated in the dark, she was amazed at how silent the night actually was. All day cicadas had careened and she vaguely remembered crickets and frogs chirping and groaning as she had run home in the darkening twilight. Yet here in the garden there was nothing. Barely even the hushed whisper of the wind through the trees and bushes. Suddenly ill at ease she shouldered the door open, stepping out of the sweltering summer heat and into the frigid arctic chill that was her home.

 

     As the door closed behind her Keera flipped on both the hall and porch lights before dropping the spare key into the dish on the entry table and wrapping shivering arms around herself. The shorts and tee-shirt she wore were no protection against the coldness that engulfed her now. She shuffled over to the thermostat and switched on the heat. Cupping her hands over her mouth and nose she blew into them as she headed for the kitchen. Obviously her mother was home, they hadn't left the air conditioner on when they went into town yesterday morning. She must be laying in wait for her to come through the living room for the sanctuary of her bedroom. Before she flipped on the kitchen light she noted the flashing red light on the answering machine by the phone. Deciding to put off the real thing for a second or two longer, Keera reached down to play the phone message as she went to grab the teapot. A nice cup of tea would help calm Nichole, Keera was sure of it. As the missed phone call played that certainty probably wouldn't be true as her mother's care worn voice growled.

 

     "Keera, where are you? I told you to wait for me outside! Ruth Kingsley told me that you had run off with Deakon! He had better be bringing you home! I should be there around 3, we will be having a talk! When you get home, you stay there!"

 

     Glancing at the clock it read a quarter after 6, she listened to the house for a moment, it was as quiet as it was outside, except for the heater's humming in the back ground. Slightly worried she decided to call Father John. Perhaps her mother had just stayed later than she had thought talking to the village elder. She sighed as she lifted the phone receiver and dialed, dreading this phone call as much as the coming conversation with her mother, but Nichole was not here, despite the air being turned on, the house was empty. He answered on the third ring.

 

     "Hello Father, it's Keera."

 

     "Oh hello child," the old man's voice carried a smile through the phone to her. She almost returned the smile before his colder nature followed, washing her in another blast of frigid air despite the running heater. "I see your mother has finished scolding you for running off like that without asking permission or even telling her where you went. Now I had some new thoughts on your dream."

 

     Keera quickly broke into the beginning of what she knew would be a much longer lecture,  "My mother is not with you?"

 

     "No, she left around 2 this afternoon, she should be home." Father John also paused before he spoke again. "I will send the Sheriff out your way to check the roads for your mother."

 

     She jerked suddenly as she heard a floor board creek in protest in the next room. "oh never mind Father, I think I hear her now. She probably just took a nap. Sorry for disturbing you sir, have a good night Father."

 

     "Never the less, I will have Sheriff McNae run out there just in case. Now Keera about your dream."

 

     She quickly hung up, fully aware that it had been rude of her and totally uncalled for, but right now the dream was the last thing she wanted to think about. It didn't matter, but her mother did. Forcing a smile Keera headed for the living room where she had heard the floor board, ready to jump into her mother's embrace before the initial scolding. 

 

     "Mom?" Keera stumbled in the dark. Cursing under her breath when she banged her toes, limping to the wall and turned on the light. The usually net room was thrown into disarray. Chairs were overturned, pictures on the wall hung at an angle or had been ripped from their nails. The china cabinet in the corner had been pushed or pulled, it's glass doors shattered, the shelves digging into the back of the couch, keeping it somewhat upright. The contents broken and shatter beneath it. There were dents in the wall simultaneously where someone had been thrown against it constantly. 

 

     Keera stood frozen in place, her hand still on the light switch as she took in all the devastation, finally resting her gaze on the claw marks running along the door frame to the hallway. Blood splatter stained one side of the hall, Fear clenching her heart and dragged it up into her throat, breathing now ragged and shallow once more. The beating of her heart sped up clogging her ears with its loud constant drumming, blocking out every other sound, a loan owl in the tree outside, the heater blowing, the phone ringing in the kitchen. 

 

     "Mom!" she croaked, voice barely raising above a whisper as she stumbled toward the bloody path, her knees nearly giving way under her. "Mom!"

 


	4. Chapter 3 Lost Ignorance Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coming home to find her home bloody and destroyed, will Keera have a choice when faced with her darkest fears? Will she be able to escape to safety or will she be dragged into the darkness?

**Revelations 21:4**

**He will wipe away all tears from their eyes. There will be no more death, no more grief or crying or pain. The old things have disappeared.**

 

"Mom!" 

Reaching the hall Keera slipped, falling to the floor in a puddle of sticky blood. Eyes wide she looked down the dim hall seeking almost a river of blood leading to her own bedroom. Bracing herself on the wall she pushed herself up on trembling legs and turned on yet another light. Fingers agonizingly traced the claw marks that ran along the wall, parallel to the blood trail. Just outside the door to her room Keera felt vulnerable without a single form of protection. Back stepping she stopped in front of Nichole's room, reaching in she felt along the wall until she found the handle of the bat that rested there. As her sticky fingers covered the soft leather handle some of her wits returned before once more moving towards her room. 

    Taking a deep breath she reached up to clasp the silver cross that hung around her neck. Drawing strength from it she pushed the door open slowly then felt along the fall for the light switch. She jumped back into the hall when the light exploded; enveloping the room in sudden light before the darkness claimed it once more. It had been enough light though to show her Nichole Kevada's pale lifeless body stretched out on the blood soaked floor and the dark figure standing in the far corner. 

    "Welcome back my Keera."

    "What have you done?" Keera kept her eyes on the corner where she could barely make out his dark outline. Raising the point of the bat hat him she took a shaky step into the room. In response he pushed off from the wall, stepping closer to her mother's body. 

    "I have freed you my dear."

    Though she could not see his face, his voice betrayed the mirth and almost laugh that he was suppressing. Confused, Keera shook her head trying to clear it. The ringing in her ears didn't help, or was that still the phone?

    "What do you want, monster?"

    "Really Dearest, monster? As if I were some creature coming for you from beneath your bed or from your closet." He teased as he moved more slowly to perch on the edge of her desk that rested by the window just beyond the hall light. "I mean, didn't your mother or father ever speak of me to you? How absolutely precious you are? I must admit I regret the death of your dear mother. I am grateful to her for keeping you in such good health."

    Even without being able to see him she could feel his eyes scrutinize her, from her wild and messy hair to her slightly muddy sneakers. Shivering when she felt his attention heighten on certain areas. With a deep breath Keera tightened her grip on the bat and raised it, twisting her body a little so that she no longer faced him head on, but so that if he came at her defending herself would be that much easier. 

    "Tell me now, you vilest among men, how am I precious to you?" she spat at him. He made no sense. She did not know this man, what could he possibly want from her? She was nothing.

    He simply laughed, though she wasn't sure if it was something she had said or just circumstance. "An old man once called me the same thing." Still laughing her took another step towards her. She simply thrust the bat forward implying distance. "Really Keera, you have nothing to fear. You will never come to nay harm from me, most beloved." His voice was lulled, almost like he was trying to seduce her into coming to him, his arms open expectantly, waiting to embrace her. 

    "Do you think your tricks will work on me? I am not susceptible to the tricks of men! Nor their lies!" Anger coated every word that flowed from her mouth. "I would rather live my life alone than ever let a soul sucking fiend like you in my heart or life!"

    "Soul sucking fiend? Really Keera, vampires drink blood, we want nothing to do with your soul. Leave that business to the demons." He chuckled as he took another step towards her. The light now reached his mid-thigh, tailored pants sheathed his muscular legs. Despite herself Keera found herself backing away as her eyes watched his legs bring her closer to her. Jerking out of the brief daze she lifted her eyes to his still shadowed face. His cold laugh echoing in her head as well as the still silent house. 

    "Do not mock me you bastard! You killed my mother! Why?" Once more holding her ground in the door frame she tightened her grip  on the outstretched bat. She waited for a response but her gave her none. She watched as he cocked his head as if baffled by her and intrigued at the same time. His silence was getting old and her sorrow at the sudden murder of her mother as beginning to sap and drain her spike of adrenaline. "WHY!" She shrieked in a sudden burst of desperation. She needed to do something but she wasn't sure yet just what it was. 

    He jumped at her sudden outburst nearly falling back onto the desk. "You have quite a temper my dear." He chuckled again. 

    She hissed at his snide comment. He wanted temper, oh she would show him temper! Calling on the last fragments of her courage and strength she took a step into the room. Her mother was dead, there was nothing she could do about that and now she was alone. One of her greatest fears and desires had come true and that terrified her. Pain, anger and fear fueled strength into her exhausted body. "I will ask one last time, Vampire! What do you want?"

    "You," he whispered almost lovingly, as he stepped over Nichole's body moving closer to the door.

    Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light that filled the hallway and tried to pierce the dark room around her. Though she could just barely make out the wicked smirk on his face as he slowly made his way toward her, she could not make out the rest of his features. A shiver ran up her spine as he licked his lips. Th light reached his chest when he stopped, the bat no longer raised over her shoulder ready to swing but jabbing at his chest in a childish effort to keep him at bay. Before she could think about how close he was, he reached out, grabbing the bat and jerked both it and her into his embrace. Cool hard arms encased her as the wooden bat was ripped from her grasp and tossed aside. 

    "There my dear, much better. Your much prettier when not trying to be menacing." Once again chuckling he grasped her quivering chin in his hand as he raised her face to his. "Oh my poor beloved, did I hurt your hands, I am sorry. I did not mean to be so forceful, but you might have hurt yourself." 

    She tried to pull away from him, to turn her face away, anything so as to not to look at him. He held both her body and face captive though. His stare became unbearable to her, unable to resist any longer, she allowed herself to glare back at him. For a heartbeat she let their eyes lock, her warm brown with his icy blue. All her hatred and anger flew out of her to him, her mind now cleared Keera really looked at him and sickeningly recognized him. 

    "You!" Gasping she hit him, kicked him, pushed and squirmed until she had finally escaped his embrace. The moment her freedom came, shaky legs almost gave out under her. Quickly backing away she slammed into the wall across the hallway from her bedroom. She wanted to look away from him, to run down the hall and out of the house. To just escape this man's presence, this monster! She remained planted, the wall being the only thing keeping her from collapsing. "Nehumel!" She whispered his name in reverent fear.

    He was so close, he had followed her into the hall where the light now touched all of him. He had cut his long black hair in favor of a more modern style. In his fancy tailored suit he looked like a model more than the demon prince of her reoccurring nightmare, but it was him. Cold blue eyes looked down at her taking in her every shiver and breath. 

    "Oh so you do know me, beloved?"

    He stopped just outside the door, the was was not wide, in one step he could have her pinned against the wall or in his arms again. He was close enough that when she took a shaky breath the back of her throat burned with the frigid air her radiated. His skin emanating the freezing chill that pushed the warm comfort of the running heater away from her. She longed to scream, but she and Nichole lived in the shadow of the mountain, the nearest neighbor was miles away, the village a good hour if she was driving.

    Frantically she tried to recall if the car keys had been hanging on the hook above the hallway table. Her mind suddenly went blank as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair behind her shoulder. His long fingers brushing her neck before he cupped the side of her face in his hand. His thumb brushing back and forth along her flushed cheek as he closed the distance between them cutting off any chance of escape. 

    "What are you thinking my dove?"

    "No, you can't be here. Your not real, only a dream. A nightmare!" She gasped for breath, the words barely escaping her throat as fear seemed to be throttling her. 

    "A nightmare?" A hurt look brushed over his cold eyes confusing her for a moment before suddenly his lips were planted on hers. Now it wasn't just fear that was sucking the breath from her lungs but his frost-bound desperate kisses. His body pressing hers into the wall, her mind loosing all command as exhaustion, mental and emotional stress and sorrow all came crashing down on her. Nehumel pulled back just before Keera passed out, a smug smile on his lips.

    "No my Keera, not a nightmare, but your savior!"  

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something that I had written a while back and decided that I wanted to pull out of the dusty bookshelf it has been hidden on, and see what others might think about it. Fair warning this is kind of dark and twisted in some places. Any ideas or thoughts on what you think, would be appreciated. And yes I know I used bible verses and may have twisted them around from their original meaning, but the bible is over 3,000 years old, I think by this point it is open for debate on what every little phrase means.


End file.
